


Compana Copa Vida Menotti

by Soulsborne123



Category: Ghost Hunt
Genre: Barista AU, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulsborne123/pseuds/Soulsborne123
Summary: Eugene asked him a small favor. It would be just like the old days, he said, all Oliver had to do was pretend to be him for 15 days.





	1. Smile Proper

 

“No, that’s not  _ Gene-like _ .”

 

This time, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He realized that if he kept it up, he’d run the risk straining his extraocular muscles. Although that did give him an idea...

 

Perhaps if he did manage to get injured somehow, Gene would concede and agree to give up this farce. Then he would be able to fly back home to England, to his own room, free to lose himself in his own work and research. But that was stupid and ridiculous. Maybe he was getting  _ too _ much in character. Why even consider going through all the trouble of getting injured just to get away from his current situation? All he had to do was--

 

“Try again.”

 

He inwardly scoffed as he eyed the auburn-haired girl in front of him, who was currently intensely scrutinizing his every move. He liked to think he knew his twin better than anybody else; it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d pretended to be him, after all. Still, he made a slight adjustment to the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and repeated, “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

 

She pursed her lips, still dissatisfied. “Your eyebrows are still a little stiff and low. Gene kind of lifts the inside of his eyebrows up a little. And less toothy--you’re overcompensating.”

 

“It is disconcerting how well you’ve studied his mannerisms. Are you a stalker? Perhaps I should advise him against moving in with you.”

 

“What! No, I’m not a stalker! I just… pay attention to people, that’s all.” She huffed and crossed her arms. A few seconds later, she raised her left eyebrow at him in concern and asked, “But seriously, we’re still moving in tomorrow, right? We’ve paid the downpayment and everything already....”

 

The door suddenly opened and a fashionable young man entered, halting their conversation. The two assumed their position and waited as the man approached the counter with a fresh, easy air, and he then smiled at them brilliantly, nodding most expressively toward Oliver and lilted, “Hey, what’s up, you?”

 

Oliver nodded and flashed him his corrected smile. 

 

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” he recited.

 

The man giggled and replied, “I’ll never grow tired of that charming accent. Well, I’ll get the same as usual.”

 

Oliver took a paper cup from a stack and began writing down the shorthand as he recited confidently, “16-ounce  _ cafe au lait _ with soy milk and half a packet of sugar? Would that be all?” He handed the cup over to Mai and she immediately started bustling around to fill the order.

 

“Yes, that’s all.”

 

“That would be four dollars and fifty two cents, please.” 

 

After the transaction, the young man continued loitering around by the counter. There was no one else around in the shop at the moment, and the guy’s incessant staring was starting to grate on his nerves, so Oliver ventured to ask, trying his best to sound as interested as possible, “How’s your day going so far?”

 

Beside him, he could feel the girl silently shaking in laughter, but any noise she made was drowned out by the high pitched squealing of the steamer.

 

“Good, great! I’m doing great. We have several concerts lined up starting in three days, so we’re really busy with the final rehearsals. Going to need this caffeine surge.”

 

Mai set the cup down on the counter, capped it with a lid, and gently slid it toward the customer with her usual big smile. “Wow, a concert! What kind of music do you play?

 

“Classical. Our orchestra will be performing at the Copeland Symphony Hall.”

 

“Oh I’ve heard of it! This morning, on the radio, they were advertising how it’s the start of the new season or something, right?”

 

“Yes, it will be quite a hectic schedule again.”

 

“A professional musician, huh? That’s amazing! What instrument do you play?”

 

The guy grinned. “Guess. What do I look like?”

 

“Hmm… a trumpet player? Or maybe a flutist?”

 

Oliver sighed. “Obviously you would have to be either a percussionist, pianist, or a string player.” His two companions turned to him in surprise. He continued, “I would venture to guess you’re a cellist.”

 

The man blinked. “Wow. And how did you guess that? That’s true, I am a cellist.”

 

“Wouldn’t woodwind players typically refrain from eating or drinking right before playing their instrument? It’s bad for the instrument, not to mention unhygienic, to blow chunks of food into the mouthpieces. You could always just rinse your mouth before you play, but I also recall that two days ago you complained of shoulder pain while clutching your right side particularly, indicative of repetitive movements in that joint. For example, from bow usage. I have also noticed and felt the calluses on your left hand whenever you hand me your credit card, and noticed the almost permanent indentations from the strings.They looked too thick to belong to a violin, so it must be either a cello or an upright bass. I chose cello because I only thought you seemed like the cello type, but I admit that I have no concrete reasoning to support that conclusion.”

 

His two companions turned to each other in quiet surprise. Finally, the guy laughed. “That was Sherlock level, right there.” He tugged on his sleeve to look at his watch and excused himself. “I’m running late. See you guys later. And that was amazing, Gene.” With a final wave, he left through the same doors. 

 

The shop settled into quietness again. 

 

It was Mai who broke the stillness with, “I think that guy bats for the other team.”

 

Oliver raised his eyebrow. “Are you referring to his possible sexual orientation?”

 

“Uhm… yes.”

 

“Why does it warrant being brought up?”

 

“I’m not--I’m not making fun of him, if that’s what you’re insinuating! I’m  _ merely _ stating it because I  _ thought _ it might interest you to know that he  _ might _ be interested in you. This is what you do at work, okay?! You talk of stupid things like your love life, school life, and gossip with your friends. Haven’t you done that?”

 

He nudged her out of the way and began cleaning up her station. “No.”

 

“No because you don’t work? No because you don’t have friends?”

 

Oliver leveled her a glare. “No because it’s moronic. Fraternizing is a pointless exercise and only causes a decrease in work performance. The management here must be either incompetent or oblivious, putting you and Gene on the same shift. I wonder if you ever got anything done.”

 

“You could just say you have no friends,” she teased. She lightly bumped Oliver aside using her hips and gestured toward the little T.V screen monitoring the drive-through. There was a perplexed-looking woman studying the menu list.

 

With a sigh, Oliver turned on his headset and froze his face into a taut smile. “Hello,” he greeted radiantly into the microphone, “What can I get for you today?”

* * *

 

**Chapter 1:** _**Day 4** _


	2. You're Not Fooling Me

Why was this girl so persistent?

He flashed her another one of Gene's charming smiles in an attempt to disarm her, but for some reason it only made her glare at him even more. How he desperately wished he could retaliate. All he needed was to throw her one of his frigid glares and she'd be too offended to ever approach him again. Perhaps a quick disdainful side glance would be enough to repel her for fourteen days?

His facial muscles were on the brink of spasming out from smiling too much, but he persevered.

"I have Tuesdays and Sundays off. On Mondays I'm in charge of cleaning the restrooms. On Thursdays you and I are in charge of checking the inventory at the end of the day and marking down what we need so that on Fridays Grace can place the final order. On Saturdays we both have the early morning shift and we restock the supplies."

As he spoke, the look of exasperation was becoming more and more evident on her face and Oliver could feel his own blood pressure rising in response. He was certain he got it all correct, so why was she responding in that manner? He even passed the insipid little quiz she threw at him earlier, asking him to recite what the shorthand for all the drinks were.

Just then the flamboyant regular, whose name Eugene forgot but affectionately called 'The-usual-please dude' and of whom he had warned him about, waltzed in the cafe and went straight to gossiping with Mai about something pointless regarding some doctor visit and his shoulder, and Oliver was ever thankful to have her temporarily distracted. Unfortunately their little exchange eventually had to end. The man turned to him and smiled, ordering "the usual, please" without telling Oliver exactly what kind of drink he wanted, and Mai became visibly excited, no doubt thinking  _this_  would be the time she would catch him in his lie.

But what she didn't know was that he never went on a case unprepared. He knew everything he needed to know and he filled The-usual-please-dude person's order with ease, complete with his charming smile.

When The-usual-please-dude person left, Oliver was bewildered to find the girl beside him on the point of angry hysterics. She was completely red in the face, nose flaring, but fortunately for him there were still two ladies by the window seats idly chatting so she couldn't scream at him as she obviously wanted to.

Good grief. What kind of proof did this girl require?

"You know you're being ridiculous," he tried to say lightheartedly, "but I'll play along. So what else do you need to know, Mai?"

She hissed through gritted teeth, " _You. Are. Not. Gene._ "

"You keep saying that nonsense. Stop joking around already."

She whined and stomped her foot impatiently. She cried in a harsh whisper, "You're probably his brother, right? Or a twin since you look almost exactly the same. Look, I don't know what the circumstances are and why you're suddenly filling in for him, but I just need to know- _where is he_? I need him to sign some papers with me today!"

"I am Gene. And don't worry, we'll finalize the deal today. We'll sign the papers and pay our down payment together, as planned. "

"No,  _how long_  until he gets back?! Because there is  _no way_  I'm going to live with you; I don't even  _know_ who you are!"

Oliver gripped the utensils he was currently arranging, tightly in his hands. "Mai, you're being ridiculous. I am Gene, not some random stranger. I don't know why you would even think that, it sounds so… stupid. If you're having second thoughts renting this flat with me, just say so."

Mai's eyes brightened and she immediately jumped into his space. "Aha!" she hissed triumphantly, "Gene has always been conscious of calling it 'apartments' like the way  _we_  do. You just called it 'flat'!"

"Slip of the tongue," Oliver muttered in annoyance as he created some distance between them. "Sometimes I just forget to use the wrong words to call things."

That was careless of him.

"Look, I really don't understand why you're suddenly acting out like this, Mai. For the last time,  _I am Gene_. Stop doubting me already."

Then suddenly she went quiet. It was a welcome reprieve, but after a few minutes standing together in awkward silence, Oliver's curiosity won over.

"So you believe me now?"

For some reason, Mai was suddenly unable to meet his eyes. She started combing her hair with her fingers absentmindedly and began tugging gently at its ends. "I-I'm sorry… I've been acting ridiculous. I guess I was just worried…"

"...Worried… about?"

Her face flushed and she turned away so that Oliver had to lean a bit forward to hear her reply.

"I was really just worried that you had second thoughts about living with me so I just wanted to test you a bit… I know we both agreed that was a one-time deal only…"

"One-time deal?" Oliver echoed. What was she talking about?

"I just wanted to make sure you wanted to move in with me as much as I wanted to move in with you after what we did."

Oliver wanted to backtrack. Eugene hadn't told him he had some history with his coworker. "Well," he said slowly, trying to think of what next words to say. "It can't be helped…"

The two ladies had finally finished their drinks and got up to leave. Now they were entirely alone and Oliver felt the heaviness of the atmosphere.

Where were the rest of the coffee-addicted Americans he heard so much about? It was eight o'clock on a Saturday morning, for crying out loud. Surely someone will be needing their  _pick-me-up_?

"So… I was wondering… I was hoping… I wanted…" she trailed off. Then she found her resolve and looked him straight in the eyes. Oliver found the pink tint to her cheek somewhat pleasing... and alarming. "I can't stop thinking about that night. Ever since then, I've been wondering if we could actually give us a chance."

He wasn't sure how to reply. He had no idea what Gene felt toward his coworker friend. Did he want to keep it straightly platonic? Although based on what this girl was saying, they had gone beyond the platonic part. Eugene had always been loose with the girls. Were they what people referred to as 'friends with benefits'? How was he supposed to react to this?

If he said no and Gene actually liked her, he would ruin his brother's chance at a relationship. Eugene was an annoying git, sure, but he would not mess with his life like this. On the other hand if he said yes and Gene didn't really like her that way, it would be troublesome as well. Not to mention if he said yes now, he would have to deal with it for fourteen days. It would be mortifying, not to mention it was wrong and unfair to the girl. And yet he couldn't exactly tell her the truth, not when Gene begged him to keep that part of his life a secret. For Eugene to ask him a huge favor, agree to fly him out with his own money and beg him to pretend to be the happy-go-lucky Eugene Davis in order to keep a semblance of normalcy in his life, of course Oliver had to keep it a secret. And it wasn't as if Eugene  _had_ to go away. He just chose to go away because his help was wanted-it was needed. He truly couldn't fault him for that.

So he was stuck.

"I… am not… sure what to say at the moment," he answered slowly. His voice sounded pathetic to his ears.

"Do you think about that night as well?" Mai murmured shyly. "Do you remember it?"

The word 'no' was on the tip of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to say it. Instead he settled with, "It's a little… foggy."

She snapped her head up. "Oh? Does that mean you need another demonstration, to remember?"

Oliver froze. What in the hell was happening?

Mai had turned away and began refilling the napkin holder even though it was still about at ninety percent capacity. "We don't have to sign the papers until one P.M. today. We have time after work. Your place?"

"My… place… is a little messy at the moment."

"Ok. My place then, like last time?"

"What…"

-00-00-

Oliver Davis was a smart man. Ask anybody who actually knew who he was and they'd tell you without a doubt that he was a true genius. But unfortunately when it came to social situations, he was an idiot.

The rest of his shift passed as a blur, preoccupied as he was in figuring out how he could get out of his current situation. Without being free to use his sharp tongue, he had no idea how he could extract himself out of this dilemma. When his shift ended, he automatically followed her out of the door and almost forgot to clock out and the person who took over his shift had to actually chase him down.

The two walked toward the direction where, he assumed, her flat was located. Both did not speak for a while. When he glanced at her profile, Oliver thought that she seemed a bit nervous. Curious. And for some reason, her losing composure gave him back some of his own. "Second thoughts?" he asked.

Mai turned toward him in surprise and laughed obnoxiously. "What, no. Just trying to remember if I tidied my room up a bit." Then with a sneer, she continued, "Also you must be extremely thirsty for some action, aren't you? Forgetting to clock out and all."

He bit the inside of his cheek and struggled to control the flush he felt about to come on. That was quite a bold statement. And offensive. But there was something wrong with the way she said it. Her entire demeanor felt forced.

"Yes, you must forgive me for that. I can't say I'm not excited. It's been  _a while_."

"A-alright, great. Me too."

He couldn't understand why she wouldn't drop her pretense. Even someone as oblivious as him could see through her bluff now. She was still trying her best to out him as a Gene impersonator. But what Oliver couldn't understand even more was why  _he_ wouldn't call her out on it.

And so the two of them went on pretending.

* * *

 

 **Chapter 2:** **_Day 2_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of storytelling is kind of fun.


	3. Oliver Davis Does Not Exist

"So you and Gene have this thing where you get bored and decide to switch places from time to time," she said to him, while keeping her gaze straight ahead as she readjusted the grocery bags in her arms with a small grunt. Earlier he had offered to carry her load since the bottle of milk and cuts of meat made her bag heavier in comparison to his (which contained only a handful of vegetables, small fruits, and tofu), but she had politely declined, saying it wasn't fair to ask that of him. Besides, she joked, with his strict vegan diet and with how little he ate, she was probably stronger than him anyway.

Oliver never bothered with his offer again.

He responded, "As I've tried to clarify to you before, we don't do it out of 'boredom'. And Gene and I haven't done it since high school."

"Fine. Something important came up this time and you  _had_  to switch. I still wonder why Gene couldn't have warned me in the first place? It's a little strange to get your twin brother to switch lives with you for two weeks, sure, but it's not like I would have freaked out or told on you guys, or anything. And I was seriously concerned about my living situation, you know."

"You'd have to ask him. It isn't my place to explain my brother's reasons."

Mai sighed. "Fine, fine. So he asks for you to take over as Eugene Davis- s'that mean he went back to England to live as Oliver Davis?"

"No."

"Well that's rather selfish of him. Oliver's been temporarily erased out of existence! Why does there need to be two Eugenes at once?"

Oliver shrugged and tried to answer as simply as he could, "He needs Eugene here while he does… 'Eugene' things in England."

She let out a tinkling laughter. "I can't ask what 'Eugene' things he's doing, but can I ask what 'Oliver' things he  _would_  have been doing had he pretended to be you?"

He wondered if she was always this inquisitive. With a sigh, he asked in response, "Why ask in such a roundabout way about my personal life?"

"Just a little trick because I'm afraid you might not answer if I pry directly. Besides, I'm not so bold."

Those words triggered recent memories to flash through his mind:

Her nervously leading him to her small bedroom. Her heavily flushed face. Her pushing him down the bed with trembling arms. Her quick, unsteady breathing. Her posturing to remove her T-shirt. Her strapless red dress. Her daintily curled hair. Her lilac perfume. Her eyes, so big; her nose, so close. Her lips, slightly parted, whispering the words, "Maybe I do."

He would have collided against the light post had Mai not pulled him aside. She gave him a weird look.

Oliver cleared his throat. "You underestimate yourself."

Mai gave a start and instinctively tried to cover her face at his insinuation, almost smacking herself with her groceries had Oliver not reached out just in time to snatch the bags away.

"We're not far off. I think I'm strong enough to at least carry it from here."

"R-right. Then, please… thanks."

Eventually they arrived at their shared home. Oliver waited as Mai pulled out her keys and turned the lock, following in after her once she opened the door. She went towards the windows to let the afternoon light in, while he went straight ahead toward the kitchen table to put the bags down.

"I'm hungry now so I'll begin cooking," she announced, stepping into the small kitchen with him and tying the apron around her waist "Don't put the chicken away, please."

Oliver nodded and took it out of the bag, placing it on the countertop for her, then squeezed behind her to store the rest of their groceries inside the fridge.

"I'll go and cook your dish for you, too, since I'm already cooking anyway."

"Do you know what dish and how?"

Mai scoffed. "You've been having the same stir-fried vegetables and tofu meal for the entire five days I've lived with you. And preparing  _that_  isn't rocket science." She took out another pan and set it on the stove top. "Chop up your vegetables and tofu the way you like while I prep my food. Anyway, I'm starting to think you don't know how to cook anything else."

Without replying, Oliver reopened the fridge and took out some of the vegetables he felt like eating. It was true he didn't have any culinary skills to boast of, but being a light-eater vegan, it wasn't as if he required much. Besides, since he still lived at home with his parents, Luella did all the cooking for him, and even when he went on cases that required overnight stays at the client's house, Lin took care of that for him.

Why Eugene craved for so much independence, enough to move away to another continent by himself, was something Oliver could never understand.

He squeezed behind her again to grab a chopping board and a knife, then went back over the kitchen table to get out of her way.

"You never answered me."

There was small, sharp  _crack_  as Oliver made the initial slice on the carrot, followed immediately by a dull  _thuck_  as the knife hit the board. His knife skills were dismal, but it'll do. Finally, he answered, "Since I'm currently on break, Gene would have been at home, reviewing notes, reading books, writing a paper."

"Asking for tea," she added nonchalantly, as if she knew him inside and out.

"Asking for tea," Oliver found himself repeating.

"You're also a student then. Gene's a third year, right? What's your major?"

"I majored in physics as an undergraduate."

Mai turned to him with a confused frown. "What, so you're finished with school?"

"Not quite. I'm a graduate student, but what I'm studying now directly relates to Gene's affairs, so if you will excuse me, I don't feel I'm at liberty to say." Oliver paused in his work to raise his eyebrow when Mai let out a loud whistle. "What?"

"Damn. And you're only a year older than me. That's actually kind of amazing."

Oliver let out a tiny scoff to portray nonchalance, then discreetly turned back around to hide away his smug satisfaction.

* * *

**Chapter 3: _Day 9_**


	4. Neither Were Tempted In the Least

Oliver stirred under the sheets but could not bring himself to get up. His paper needed revising, but working in food service was surprisingly more tiring than he expected. It wasn't the physical demand of the job but rather, the inane requirement for him to continually smile and socialize with people around him that completely wore him out. The times he felt haggard the next day after deciding to forego sleep in order to do research or to connect nebulous clues to solve a case, were nothing compared to the exhaustion he felt now. _This_ was what it meant for him to be truly mentally exhausted.

 

He reached beside him to turn off the incessant beeping of the alarm (which he’d ‘snoozed’ thrice already) and massaged his facial muscles. Why had he even bothered setting it last night? Today was supposed to be Gene’s day off.

 

He placed his right arm over his eyes and exhaled loudly.

 

Eugene's life was quite difficult.

 

“Why did I agree to this?” he asked himself. His mind recalled the events yesterday concerning an obnoxious brunette, and Oliver thought he might as well try to make sense of everything that had happened.

 

It was only because he found himself in such an incoherent situation that he allowed himself to not only follow the girl home, but even, of his own volition (though of course at her urging), follow her into her room. At least, that's what he figured now looking back anyway.

 

He had been so confused that for the first few minutes he stood there dumbly watching as she frantically grabbed several things off the floor and threw them inside her closet. He remembered clearly that during that time he was focused on an entirely unrelated thought, reciting to himself how thermal equilibrium, according to Boltzmann, is the state in which several microstates of the system statistically become all equally possible.     

 

By the time he snapped out of it Mai was already fumbling nervously about the bed, rearranging her pillows and sheets, so he hastily formulated an excuse. He would feign a terrible stomach ache and lock himself in her bathroom until he could think about part two. He didn't care how long it took him and how embarrassing it would be. He was _Gene_ . Let _him_ deal with the humiliation when he gets back.

 

But before he could speak she suddenly hopped over to him and violently tugged on his arm, then practically pushed him on the bed. With his momentum going against him, he easily stumbled and fell backward, and he then immediately propped himself up with one arm to stare at her in stunned stupefaction.

 

“Oh, whoa, oh my. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” she had fussed apologetically.  

 

Her nervousness had refueled his courage. He frowned at her and had said, “Your advances are quite bold, but your bravado is obviously forced. Why don't you just let this go?”

 

She replied, “W-what are you talking about, _Gene_? Didn't you like it like this? Is this not rough enough for you?”

 

Ignoring the mortifying and completely unnecessary information aside, he replied, not wanting to be the first one to falter,  “Don't overstrain yourself, _Mai._ This needn’t happen unless you want it to.”

 

“Oh unless _I_ want it to?” she had scoffed and joined him on the bed. “Are you saying you _don’t_ want to bed me? Why, what's the matter, _Gene_? _Is_ _something_ _going on with you that I should know about?_ ”

 

He had rolled his eyes and moved to sit up, but Mai pinned him down. He recalled how her arms had trembled.

 

“B-because this is happening, unless of course, you have a reason we _shouldn't_?” She then straddled him. But she was doing it in such a way that she wasn't touching him. He wasn't versed in such activities, but he was sure that's not how it was supposed to be done.

 

She was obviously just as uncomfortable about this situation as much as he was. And _that_ was what gave him hope that she would soon break, but thinking back now, he should have stopped the farce then and there. Because he should have realized by then that Mai was an annoying and exceptionally persistent git, and there was no way he could have outlasted her. Yet he continued to tempt it.

 

She then audibly gulped, leaned back a bit, and postured to take off her shirt. At the first glimpse of skin he regretted his foolhardiness and immediately shot his hands out to pin both of hers down by her sides.

 

“No, don't.”

 

The silence around them had been maddeningly deafening.

 

Then with a sigh he was forced to admit, “I am not Gene. I am his twin, Oliver, and he asked me to pretend to be him for 15 days.”

 

And whatever happened afterward was a blur. The adrenaline eventually wore off so his recollection of the rest of the events were not as detailed. He just remembered they had some few back and forths, with him judging her for being insane enough to proposition and bring a man she didn't know into her home, and to which she haughtily responded that he was a hypocrite because he willingly _followed_ a woman he didn't know to her home. For all he knew, she argued, she could have planned to drug him and cut out his kidneys to sell in the black market.

 

Oliver rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes and got up to go to the restroom. A few minutes later he emerged, got dressed, and headed to the cafe with his laptop, determined to get some writing done.

 

-00-00-

  


“How were you so sure I wasn't Gene?”

 

Mai rang him up and handed him another order of tea. “You’re going to need to go to the bathroom soon with how much tea you've ingested.”

 

“Hopefully this time the tea isn't oversteeped.” He handed her the signed receipt and frowned. “I gave a tip again. I need to stop doing that until you figure out how to properly make tea.”

 

Mai glared at him and snatched the receipt away from his hands before he could make any corrections. “There's a tip required for interacting with perfection.”

 

He raised his brow. “Then why don't I see you giving me any tips?”

 

“You are _such_ a narcissist. You think you're so hot and beautiful and all that?”

 

“Don't you?” He watched in amusement as her entire face flushed.

 

“You _really_ must believe you're handsome.”

 

“I’ve seen Gene. He isn't bad on the eyes.”

 

Mai laughed. “I guess not.” After a few seconds of just watching him, she resumed, “You smile differently. Something about your eyes betray you, like you _really_ don't want to be here. Gene is always happy to work here.”

 

Oliver shrugged. “That would probably be because he associates the work with you. Speaking of that, how do you plan on explaining the events yesterday? I caution you against providing him too much detail. He can be very emotional.”

 

“What? What are you talking about?”

 

He raised his brow. “Your little test. Gene is, unfortunately, the jealous kind.”

 

“Why would he be jealous? There's nothing between us.”

 

“Indeed, there is nothing between us, but--”

 

“--No!” she cried exasperatedly. “Between me and Gene, there is nothing between us. Another reason I knew you weren't Gene was because we have _never_ been intimate and yet you seemed so unsure and confused. So I figured that made you uncomfortable, so I took that as an opportunity to expose you.”

 

Oliver frowned. Aggravating, but clever. He cleared his throat. “I don't recommend relying on that tactic in the future.”

 

Mai smiled at him. “I had a feeling you'd be a gentleman about it. It took you a lot longer to cave than I expected, but you did. Eventually.”

* * *

 **Chapter 4:** **_Day 3_ **

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Er. My sprained ankle isn't healing. Maybe it's more serious than I thought. But at any rate, being confined to the bed for a majority of the day drives me insane and made me come up with this.
> 
> By the way the title is complete gobbledygook. If you didn't already know.


End file.
